


Courting Yuki-Onna

by Socchan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blanket Permission, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Available, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socchan/pseuds/Socchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do not anger your local snow maiden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courting Yuki-Onna

**Author's Note:**

> For those interested, you can find a lovely podfic of this story [here](http://soc-puppet.dreamwidth.org/502858.html), with and without background music, as recorded by the incredibly talented Ashii Black.

Long ago, there was a particular village at the foot of a mountain that was protected by a snow maiden. Each year, in order to ensure that the winter would be mild, the villagers would leave the snow maiden a selection from their harvest, and each year the snow maiden would gentle the winds, the snow, the ice. One year, however, famine fell upon the town, and they were unable to provide the tribute without starving. The snow maiden saw this, and reined in the winter storms so they were bearable.

The villagers, however, misinterpreted this. They began to believe that perhaps there was no snow maid protecting them after all, that perhaps they did not need to pay tribute. So that year, despite a bumper crop, the villagers did not set aside any for the snow maiden.

Yuki-onna tried to rationalize this. Perhaps they were simply being cautious after the lean times last year and were simply stocking up against future famines. So again she tempered the winter storms without tribute, and the villagers took this as confirmation that there was no snow maiden.

The pattern continued for the next three years, and the villagers began to forget that they had ever acknowledged the snow maiden, or that there even was one. When the fourth year came, however, and there was no sign of a tribute being made, Yuki-onna had had enough. That winter, the snow maid unleashed her full fury on the village: snow pelted the houses, wind tore at the scenery, and ice slicked along roads and into dwellings.

Fearing for their lives, the villagers flew to their stores to bring out the best they had available to make tribute to the snow maiden. Yuki-onna scorned their offerings, however, and only drove the winds harder against the village.

Now, it so happened that there was a resourceful young man in the village who remembered the mild winters of the past. He had urged the village to continue its tributes to the snow maiden ever since their lean year ended, and each year the villagers had failed to listen to him. Now he stepped forward and addressed them. "I may be able to appeal to the snow maiden," he said, for he thought he knew something that might work, "but if I am successful, you must promise to give tribute every year, without fail. If I fail, I fear your only chance to survive will be to leave this place forever."

The villagers nodded and swore reverently that they would pay tribute each year for as long as the snow maiden made her home in the mountain. The young man nodded back, but did not leave until he was sure that each one would uphold their promise.

Then, wrapping himself against the cold and wind, the young man left his house and approached the mountain where Yuki-onna made her home. He knelt at the foot and said to her, "Yuki-onna, I know you have been slighted, that the villagers have not kept their promise from long ago to share what they had in exchange for mild winters. However, I know also that they are truly repentant, and would share with you the best they have to offer now and forever if it would convince you of their sincerity."

The wind picked up and a voice replied, whispering with the rustle of pine branches, "They have already been given a chance - been given more chances than they were worth."

The youth nodded. "I know they have been given many chances, but their judgment was clouded until now. I, though, remember your warmth and kindness from when I was a boy; will you not give them one chance more?"

The trees shivered in a cold laugh. "My warmth? Very well. If you can find proof of this warmth, I will have mercy upon your village. If you fail, however, the greatest tribute in the world will not appease me, and this village will learn what cold truly is!"

The young man studied the mountain for a moment, and said, "I accept."

"Your challenge, then," the snow maiden told him, "begins now. Come seek the warmth you claim exists!"

The young man lingered only a few moments more before beginning his ascent of the snow maid's mountain. When he was a quarter of the way up, the wind began to blow more fiercely. It carried the snow maiden's voice to his ears: "This is my breath. All the air that I breathe in becomes chilled the moment it enters my body, and every breath leaves me colder than it entered. How can I be warm when my life-breath causes you to shake from cold?"

The young man shouted into the wind, "Though your breath is cold, there is still warmth in you. A person is not the air they breathe!"

The wind abated somewhat at that, though it was still stronger than when he began. The youth continued up the mountain.

When he was half-way up, snow began to fall. The snow that fell on his ears spoke as it melted. "This is my touch," Yuki-onna told him. "It smothers the land with cold, freezing it and putting it to sleep until spring. If you were buried in it, you would either suffocate or catch your death from cold."

"Your touch is not you," the young man told the snow on his lips. "Though you may leave frosty fingerprints wherever you go, there is more to you than just touches; the warmth is in that greater part."

The snow did not cease here, though it morphed from stinging pellets to delicate ice flowers. The youth continued his trek.

When he was three-quarters of the way up, the snow turned to freezing rain. "This is what I feel," the rain drummed into him. "This is my sadness and betrayal, my anger and my hurt. This is my resolution. Where it lands it builds up, and where it builds up it kills things, breaks them. There is no warmth here."

Though the young man was now soaked through and shivering hard, he said back to the rain, "You can feel more than just cold things. There is warmth inside you, and room for warm feelings. Feeling pain does not mean you cannot feel love."

And the rain turned into a fine mist that was, if not warmer, then at least more gentle than before. The youth renewed his efforts.

At the peak of the mountain, the young man found Yuki-onna. "You have scaled my mountain," she said to him. "You have felt my breath, my touch, my sorrow. You have made it through all of these to see me face-to-face, and you still claim I have warmth in me. Now I ask you: where is it?"

And the young man stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. Her skin was cool, and his breath condensed on her cheeks. He hesitated a moment, then bent forward and pressed his mouth to hers.

Her lips were warm beneath his.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Yes, yes, I know: soppy sappy romantic slush. Couldn't help it. Walked too much in the falling snow, and started to think of the activity as "courting Yuki-onna", so. One thing lead to another, and here we are.
> 
> Now if you will excuse me, some hot chocolate is calling my name.
> 
> (Originally written December of 2008.)


End file.
